Day 7: Baker City to Ontario, OR
We’ve survived a week of cycling. Paul and Matt (the other 22-year-old) are watching the Mets-Yankees game, providing play-by-play commentary on the TV commentary. Matt is a former pitcher and Paul a former catcher, so there is a natural affinity. Matt is also a hard-core cyclist, whereas Paul is not so sure about all this, so the affinity does not carry through to the road.
Today was a pretty easy day, almost all downhill. The ride started with a spectacular downhill through some gorgeous red hills. The hills are molded in soft shapes with little vegetation, with the occasional cow or horse grazing. I said that the hills looked sensuous and Paul looked at me funny. I tried to explain and Paul cycled off ahead saying that I was weird.
We didn’t get any great pictures. I didn’t want to stop on the descents and that’s where the great views were.
Part of today’s ride was on I-84. A big part of last night’s “route rap” was devoted to avoiding getting killed on the interstate. Mike put the fear of god (and semis) in all of us and the actual ride was pretty uneventful. All of our interstate segments were downhills so we didn’t spend too long there. There was a wide shoulder so it actually felt safer than riding on some of the smaller roads. We did have to be careful of debris, like truck treads, glass, spikes, and other junk, but there was plenty of room to avoid the junk without coming close to the roadway. Traffic was light and the views were pretty spectacular.
We stopped for lunch at a little café in the town of Huntington. Mike had told us about the restaurant, and his van was parked in front of the café, but most of the cyclists were sitting on the curb in front of the convenience store, eating junk food. I asked why they didn’t go to the restaurant and they insisted that there were no restaurants in town. I walked a block away and established that there was a bar and a restaurant, both of which serve food. Paul and I ate at the café and the food was great. The restaurant dates back to the days when Huntington was a bustling Union Pacific town. The ceiling was tin, which impressed Paul (and me) and there was a long counter for diner-type service and lots of old booths. We took one of the booths. The restaurant had an album full of pictures from Huntington’s hey-day, mostly of the railroad and its workers, but also of a bustling downtown complete with large fancy hotel. It reminded us of how much difference the rise and fall of railroads has had to western communities. While we ate, we saw a very long Union Pacific freight train ride past the restaurant.
The terrain here changes very fast. From Huntington, we rode along the Snake River for about 10 miles. I told Paul the story of Jimmy Carter’s being attacked by a bunny while rafting in the Snake River in Idaho. (Was it the Snake?) Then, after a short climb, we were in dead flat farmland. The last 25 miles to the hotel were kind of boring—flat without much to look at other than irrigation equipment, livestock, and crops. The only excitement was the sight of giant storm clouds looming just ahead. Eventually, we got rained on. Combined with stiff headwinds, that made the last few miles relatively unpleasant.
Today we crossed our first time zone—it’s now Mountain Time. We’ll pass into Idaho first thing tomorrow morning. We’ve cycled 550 miles and we both have very sore butts. We are really looking forward to our day off in Boise, after a short 62-mile ride.
Cheers,
Len
Today was a pretty easy day, almost all downhill. The ride started with a spectacular downhill through some gorgeous red hills. The hills are molded in soft shapes with little vegetation, with the occasional cow or horse grazing. I said that the hills looked sensuous and Paul looked at me funny. I tried to explain and Paul cycled off ahead saying that I was weird.
We didn’t get any great pictures. I didn’t want to stop on the descents and that’s where the great views were.
Part of today’s ride was on I-84. A big part of last night’s “route rap” was devoted to avoiding getting killed on the interstate. Mike put the fear of god (and semis) in all of us and the actual ride was pretty uneventful. All of our interstate segments were downhills so we didn’t spend too long there. There was a wide shoulder so it actually felt safer than riding on some of the smaller roads. We did have to be careful of debris, like truck treads, glass, spikes, and other junk, but there was plenty of room to avoid the junk without coming close to the roadway. Traffic was light and the views were pretty spectacular.
We stopped for lunch at a little café in the town of Huntington. Mike had told us about the restaurant, and his van was parked in front of the café, but most of the cyclists were sitting on the curb in front of the convenience store, eating junk food. I asked why they didn’t go to the restaurant and they insisted that there were no restaurants in town. I walked a block away and established that there was a bar and a restaurant, both of which serve food. Paul and I ate at the café and the food was great. The restaurant dates back to the days when Huntington was a bustling Union Pacific town. The ceiling was tin, which impressed Paul (and me) and there was a long counter for diner-type service and lots of old booths. We took one of the booths. The restaurant had an album full of pictures from Huntington’s hey-day, mostly of the railroad and its workers, but also of a bustling downtown complete with large fancy hotel. It reminded us of how much difference the rise and fall of railroads has had to western communities. While we ate, we saw a very long Union Pacific freight train ride past the restaurant.
The terrain here changes very fast. From Huntington, we rode along the Snake River for about 10 miles. I told Paul the story of Jimmy Carter’s being attacked by a bunny while rafting in the Snake River in Idaho. (Was it the Snake?) Then, after a short climb, we were in dead flat farmland. The last 25 miles to the hotel were kind of boring—flat without much to look at other than irrigation equipment, livestock, and crops. The only excitement was the sight of giant storm clouds looming just ahead. Eventually, we got rained on. Combined with stiff headwinds, that made the last few miles relatively unpleasant.
Today we crossed our first time zone—it’s now Mountain Time. We’ll pass into Idaho first thing tomorrow morning. We’ve cycled 550 miles and we both have very sore butts. We are really looking forward to our day off in Boise, after a short 62-mile ride.
Cheers,
Len
posted by Len Burman at 8:27 PM
1 Comments:
Okay, but Jimmy Carter did visit the Snake River in 1978. (I didn't have access to the web when I wrote last night's blog so couldn't fact check. Now, in Boise, I googled "Jimmy Carter Snake" and several references came up to a 1978 visit. He should have been attacked by the bunny there.
We enjoy the comments. Thanks.
Len
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